


Storm

by Helis_von_Askir



Category: Criminal Minds: Suspect Behavior
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 15:27:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20137699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Helis_von_Askir/pseuds/Helis_von_Askir
Summary: Just another day at the office.





	Storm

**Author's Note:**

> I don't owe Criminal Minds: Suspect Behaviour and I'm not making any money off of this.  
This is just for enjoyment. I hope you do too.

**Storm**

The snow was blowing so heavily that it had turned everything white. Beth and Mick were driving back from the last crime scene, when the storm started, and now they were driving at walking speed down the road.

“This sucks.” Beth exclaimed behind the wheel. She never let Mick drive, if she could help it. He drove almost as bad as Prophet. “I can’t see anything in this storm. With our luck we end up wrapped around a tree.”

“Or we could just pull into that little road over there and wait it out.” Mick suggested calmly. He didn’t like the weather either, but at least in the car it was warm and dry, and he had to sit out cold and wet nights before, and never in the comfort of a SUV.

“What road?” Beth asked. “I don’t…, oh, that road, good idea.” Beth pulled the SUV over and parked it on the side of the road, so no one mad enough to be out in this weather would crash into them. She let the heat on and let out a long sigh. “You know, this unsub is really going to be sorry when we catch him.”

Mick smiled and took out his cell to call Sam to let him know that they were waiting out the worst of the storm before risking the roads again. “I’m sure if he had known the weather was going to be so bad, he would have refrained from killing anyone, so you wouldn’t be inconvenienced. And I have no reception, you?”

Beth rummaged through her coat pockets and got her own cell out. “No,” she shook her head. “Must be the storm, not that reception is all that great up here to begin with.” She squinted through the front windshield. “Is that a house over there?”

Mick followed her gaze. “Yeah, that’s a house. You think they’ll let us use their phone?”

“Let’s hope so, I don’t want Sam to get worried, that mother-hen.” Beth started the car again, and drove the few yards farther down the road until she reached the driveway of the house. The windows were dark but they still had to try.

“Looks deserted.” Beth commented as they got out, their coats not helping much against that kind of wind and snow. They hurried under the awning, so that they had at least a bit of protection against the elements. Beth knocked on the door, but there was no answer. “Maybe they decided to spend the winter somewhere nice, like Florida,” she muttered under her breath as she stood there freezing.

“Or not,” Mick replied form a few feet away. He had tried to see something through the window. “I have a body here, Beth.” He told her and drew his gun.

“What?” Beth exclaimed.

That was just their luck, investigate one crime and stumble onto another. Beth had her gun out in seconds too. Mick inspected the body half-buried under the snow. It was a young woman, early to mid-twenties, short red hair and a bullet through her chest. She was frozen solid.

“Looks like she was shot with a nine mill. The blood around her is frozen solid just like her, no way to know how long ago that happened in that weather.” Mick said.

“Okay, I think that is probable cause to enter.” Beth stated and tried the doorknob. To her surprise the door wasn’t locked. Carefully they went through the house, clearing room after room.

“Phone’s dead, energy is out and, considering the temperature in here, heating too.” Beth said after she tried the land line in the house and the light switch. They headed upstairs next. They didn’t encounter anyone until they came to the bedroom. They heard a muffled sound from the other side and entered with their guns ready.

“Oh, that is so not good.” Beth commented when she saw what was making the noise.

“You think?” Mick replied, holstered his weapon and bent down to pick up the crying baby lying in its cradle. He held the little one gently against his chest and after a minute it calmed down, then it simply stared at them.

“What now?” Beth wanted to know. She was eyeing the baby as if it would grow a second head at any moment. Babies and little children were so not her thing.

“Now we make ourselves comfortable until the weather clears up enough to call the others.” Mick simply replied and headed out of the bedroom.

“Where are you going?” Beth called after him.

“Bathroom, kid needs fresh diapers. “Mick told her over his shoulder.

“Oh, and you just happen to know how to take care of a baby, do you?” Beth sounded skeptical. She had a hard time imaging Mick as taking care of anyone, least of all a six month old baby, the child couldn’t be any older.

“As a matter of fact, I do.” Mick replied and disappeared into the bathroom.

While Mick cleaned the baby in the bathroom, Beth went back downstairs. Mick was right, they had to wait until the storm was over before they could do anything. They had to leave the dead woman lying outside too, contaminating a crime scene by moving the body was not a good idea. It was bad enough that they had to stay in the house. But taking the baby with them back out to the car was just not going to happen. Luckily, the house had a traditional fireplace in the living room, with lots of wood stacked next to it. After closing and locking the doors and windows she gathered all the blankets she could find, and started a fire to keep them warm over what would probably be the whole night, because the storm didn’t show any signs of letting up.

When Mick came down she was that the baby was happily cooing up at the young agent, having his sweater tight in its little fists. It was adorable, she thought, but knew better than to tell him. She would have to find a way to make a picture of the two, to show the others. They would ever believe her otherwise.

“Okay, she’s cleaned up, now we need to find her some food.” Mick said and headed into the kitchen, Beth followed him. Food sounded like a good idea to her too, she hadn’t eaten since breakfast.

“She, huh? That explains the love-struck expression on your faces.” Beth replied, smiling at the annoyed expression on his face.

“Very funny, Beth. See if you can find a milk bottle for her or some baby food.” He said and started to rummage through the kitchen cabinets one-handed.

“Baby food, right. What do babies eat at that age?” She asked. She always assumed they would drink milk until they got teeth, and then simply ate what others did too. Obviously that was very narrow-minded view of things. In the refrigerator she found a mile bottle and several small glasses with smashed carrots and apples and so on, according to the labels. It all looked the same to her.

Beth took some of them out, along with what looked like leftover dinner. The poor woman outside wouldn’t need it anymore and she was really beginning to starve and Mick probably too.

Once back in the living room, they sat as close to the fire as they could. Night was settling in and it was growing ever colder outside and in the house. They draped the blankets over them and then ate in silence. Mick first fed the little girl and then ate his impromptu dinner. He looked so comfortable with doing it that Beth had to wonder where he had learned how to do that.

“You got a secret kid stashed somewhere that we don’t know about?” she asked once she had cleaned everything up. Normally she would insist that Mick help her, but he had his hands full with the baby, literally, therefore she was willing to make an exception.

“What? No, why would you think that?” Mick asked confused. The baby was playing with the fingers of his left hand, cooing and drooling, but not interested in sleeping it seemed.

Beth indicated the little girl. “Because you seem to really know what you’re doing. I don’t have the first clue how to take care of a baby.”

Mick laughed. “It’s not that hard, Beth. And for your information, I helped take care of Jenna when she was just a little older than this one here. Our grandfather wasn’t exactly the mothering type, but he did his best, I have to give him that.” He explained.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” Beth stammered. Of course, she had to blunder into that one. Sam had told her that he and his sister were close, but that obviously meant a lot more than she had assumed.

“It’s okay, Beth. It was a long time ago.” Mick assured her.

Cardiff, Wales, 1989

“Why do we have to go to church, Mom?” Nine-year-old Mick Rawson asked, pulling on the shirt his mother made him wear. “It’s not even Sunday.”

“Because we still have to organize some things for coming Sunday, Mick. And you don’t have to come in. You can stay outside with the other children if you watch Jenna.” His mother replied with a smile. Jenna was not quite two and when she heard her name mentioned she looked up from her doll and came run over at their mother.

“But she’s a baby, Mom. I want to play soccer with Sean and the others.” Mick whined.

“And you’re a big boy now, Mick.” His father said when he came into the living room. “That means you have to act accordingly. It’s a great responsibility to watch your little sister, your Mom and I put a lot of trust into you. You think you’re up to it?” his father asked.

Mick shrugged. “Yeah, I suppose.

“Good.” His father smiled at him. “Now, come on, you can sit in the front of the car with me.”

“Really?” Mick grinned at the prospect. Only adults were allowed to sit in the front.

“Really.”

Sitting on the edge of the sandbox in the church yard, Mick was watching his sister, while Jenna made sand cakes and smashed them again with a giggle. Mick found it totally boring. He would have preferred to play soccer with his friends but he had promised his parents and he wasn’t supposed to get dirty anyway. There were a few other children there too, but they were either too young and playing with Jenna in the sandbox, or worse, girls.

“Mick, look,” Jenna called and Mick turned to see to see that she had made three sand cakes next to each other, she smashed them with her little shovel, grinning widely. At least one of them was happy to be there.

“When’s Mama coming back?” Jenna asked. “I want to show her.” She was already making new cakes.

“I don’t know.” Mick replied with a sigh. He had been asking himself that too. Adults talked like forever about things., it made them feel better and more important, Mick thought. He hoped that he would never be like this.

Suddenly there was a loud bang and the windows of the church blew outwards, showering the children with glass shards. Then the entire building collapsed inward with a huge crash, creating a cloud of dust, that covered everything. Mick coughed heavily, he had been thrown down by the shockwave of the explosion, just like the other children. As he sat up, he saw that everything was covered in a grey layer of dust and dirt. Jenna was still sitting in the sandbox, her little shovel still clutched in her hand. She blinked at him a few times and then started to cry. As if that had been a signal most of the other children started to cry too. Mick quickly took Jenna and sat her on his lap, trying to calm her down. He had to be strong now. His mom and dad were counting on him. After all, he was already nine years old, he couldn’t cry, he had to watch Jenna. But his little sister didn’t want to calm down. She was scared and wanted her mama.

In the distance Mick could hear sirens coming closer, and he could see a bobby running in the direction of the church. Maybe he could tell Mick what had happened and where his parents were.

Present Day

“Fifteen people died in that church. I read the file a few years ago. My parents had been killed instantaneously, they had been pretty close to the bomb. Others weren’t so lucky.” Mick finished.

“A bomb in a church.” Beth shook her head. “Who would do such a thing?”

“IRA.” Mick replied. “An extreme splinter group, anyway. They didn’t like the plan of the IRA leadership to put down arms and try it the political way with Sinn Fein.”

“Did they catch them?” Beth wanted to know.

Mick nodded and carefully laid the baby down, who had finally fallen asleep. “They did. Sent them away for life. My grandfather took us to court nearly every day of the trial. He wanted them to see what consequences their actions have had.” Mick chuckled. “And he wanted to show social services that he could take care of us.”

“Why wouldn’t he?” Beth was confused. If he was next of kin, then there shouldn’t be any question about it.

Mick shrugged. “His health wasn’t the best. He had to argue with that annoying woman in charge of us a lot. They only allowed him to see us once a week at first. God he was so pissed. But he got us back after a few weeks. I remember these weeks before they allowed us back. I barely slept at all. I had this panic, that every time I close my eyes someone would come and take Jenna away too, like out parents. I really didn’t leave me for a long time. Used to drive her crazy. And to think that I sued to find it totally annoying to have a little sister, I would have liked a brother. What was I supposed to do with a girl? Aside from changing her diapers when I was told to?”

Wales, Cardiff, early 1990

Mick tip-toed across the room to look into the crib where Jenna was sleeping. He was supposed to be asleep too, but he had to make sure that his little sister was alright, that she was still here.

It had been nearly six months since their parents had died in the church. Every time he thought about them, he felt real sad and his throat tightened, but he wouldn’t cry, he had to be strong and grown-up, his grandfather had told him so. He also had taken Mick and Jenna to court , once they had caught the people planting the bomb, so they could see that the bad people who had taken their parents away were being punished. The woman always cried when she saw the, saying that they hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. Mick didn’t believe her. The men were very quiet, and kept staring straight ahead, as if the things around them weren’t of any concern to them.

Mick tugged Jenna’s blanket higher around her little body and crept back to his own bed. He wanted his parents back, he prayed every night that everything in the last half year was just a bad dream. That he would wake up in the morning and everything would be alright again.

Present Day

The ringing of Beth’s phone woke them the next morning. A quick look outside showed that the weather was still bad, but a lot better than yesterday. Beth grabbed her phone and picked up before it could wake up the baby. Mick gave her a sleepy and questioning gaze.

“Griffith.” She answered.

“Oh, thank God,” Garcia said. “I’ve been trying to reach you two the whole night. Is everything okay?”

“And a good morning to you to, Penelope. We’re alright, don’t worry. But the storm prevented us from making it back, and we had no reception.”

“Next time I give you all proper satellite phones, I’m writing it down right now. Cooper is worried sick about you guys, and me too.” Garcia was going into full mother hen mode.

“We’re fine, really. But you can call Sam and tell him to send a crime scene team up to our position. We kind of stumbled over a dead body.” Beth explained and the baby chose that moment to wake up and start crying. She was obviously not a morning person. Mick stood up and paced up and down with her to calm the little girl down again.

“You stumbled over a body? Okay. I’ll tell him. And am I hearing a baby crying? Is there anything you want to tell me, dear Beth?” Garcia asked confused and excited. That was never a good combination.

“It’s not what you think. And tell Sam we’re waiting in the house.” I’ll explain later.” Beth said in what she hoped was a straight voice.

“Oh, yes, you will. Garcia out.”

The baby had calmed down and was playing with Mick’s sweater. He gave her a defeated look. “We’re never going to live this one down.”

Beth sighed. “Probably not.”

Two hours later the cavalry arrived. Coop, Prophet and Gina followed directly after the Sheriff’s car and before the coroner. Beth was waiting on the porch next to the body. It had been completely snowed over, but she still remembered where it was lying. Like she would easily forget.

“Beth, good to see you’re alright. Garcia said you found a body.” Sam greeted her. He had been tense all the way here, now he was finally able to relax a bit.

“Over here, under all the snow. And no, she’s probably not one of our unsub’s. Too young.” Beth said quickly. The weather might have cleared up a bit but it was still freezing and she wanted to get either back inside the house or the car. And she was also hoping that some nice deputies were willing to unearth their SUV, because it was also buried under a heap of snow.

“Garcia said also something about a baby.” Gina spoke up.

Beth sighed and pointed over her shoulder. “Inside, Mick’s feeding her. She’s taken a liking to him, I think.”

Prophet rolled his eyes at that. “Don’t they all? It must be that accent, I tell you.”

“Jealous, mate?” Mick asked from the door. He had put his coat on and had wrapped the little girl into one of the blankets so only her face was visible. She looked around interested with big blues eyes. “I found some ID on our victim.” He continued more seriously and handed Sam a driver’s license. “Madeline Seaver, 23. But I can’t find a birth certificate for the little one.”

The Sheriff chose that moment o come over. “That’s Madeline Seaver, alright. A shame, really.” He said shaking his head.

“You knew her?” Prophet asked.

The Sheriff shrugged. “Not really, she moved here about eight months ago. Kept pretty much to herself.”

“What about a husband or boyfriend?” Gina wanted to know. “Way the baby’s father in the picture?”

“No, I don’t think so. My wife’s the doctor here, she once told me that Madeline was doing such a fine job of raising Sonja all by herself. But I’m afraid that’s all I know.” The Sheriff said apologetically.

“That’s okay.” Sam assured him. “The baby needs to be checked up anyway. We can ask your wife if she has any additional information for us then.”

“I’ll call her that we bring Sonja over. You want to go along?” the Sheriff asked in Mick’s direction.

The young agent shrugged his shoulder. “Fine by me.”

“Good.” The Sheriff nodded and then turned to Sam. “I know this is not why you’re here, Agent Cooper, But if you could lend a hand anyway, I’d be really grateful. The last murder before this whole madness was over thirty years ago and ow we have five in three weeks. Must be something in the water.”

Sam smiled at him. “That won’t be a problem. Agent Griffith and I will stay here, Agents Simms and LaSalle will continue with our other case. Mick, meet them back at the department once the baby is taken care of.”

The check-up was done quickly. Little Sonja was in great shape and Dr. Lockwood had the phone number of Madeline Seaver’s mother and would call her later. Sonja would stay with her and her husband, the sheriff, until her grandmother could come and pick her up. Mick said his goodbyes and joined Prophet and Gina at the Sheriff Department. They still had a sadistic serial killer to catch.

“Nice to have you back, man.” Prophet greeted him when he entered the conference room. “Think you will get over your newest crush?”

“Funny, make, real funny.” Mick replied and poured himself some coffee. “How about we concentrate on the case?”

“Alright, alright. What did you find at the latest crime scene?” Prophet asked.

“Same as the others, but this time he cut her hair and took it with him. He’s starting to take trophies.” Mick told them.

“That’s not good.” Gina sighed. “He has to be local, otherwise he couldn’t move around like this without anyone noticing.”

“Early to mid-twenties, with a hat towards women, probably because either his mother or another female authority figure rejected him.” Prophet said. “Let’s call P, maybe she can find someone who fits the profile.”

“Did you find an address book?” Sam asked a couple of hours after they had arrived at the house. “In paper or on the phone.”

“No, but we haven’t been looking for it, why?” Sheriff Lockwood replied.

“Madeline’s killer was not a stranger, she knew him or her, I mean, look at her. She wore a coat, but no boots, only slippers. She didn’t expect to be outside for long, otherwise she wouldn’t have left her daughter alone.” Sam explained.

Lockwood sighed. “I’ll get my boys looking.” He said and went outside to brief the deputies.

“This is hard on him,” Beth observed. “The most he had to deal with before were bar fights and DUI’s.”

“And now the bodies are piling up, I know,” Sam nodded. “We’ll get them, Beth.”

The sheriff came back holding an IPhone in his gloved hand. “Madeline had this on her.” She said and gave it to Sam.

“Thank you,” Sam scrolled through the menu. “There is a SMS here, received shortly before five. Four hours before you and Mick found her.” He said and showed the message to Beth.

_“I have some clothes, I think you’ll like. I’ll drop them off in ten minutes. Bree_.” She read out aloud. “Who’s Bree?”

“That’s probably Bree Wilson.” The Sheriff spoke up. “She lives only a few minutes from here. In these parts that means their next door neighbors.”

“We need to talk to her.” Beth told him.

“Okay, I went through the residents of your embarrassingly small town, and there are only seventy-three men between twenty and twenty-seven, who are white, own a car of any kind and have a steady job.” Garcia reported. “Anything else?”

“The unsub comes from a broken home.” Prophet said. “He was raised by his mother, aunt or grandmother until she threw him out or left him, most likely in his early teens. Look for records in the social services.”

“On it. And…we are down to thirteen.” Garcia replied after a moment.

“Send us the files, we go through them, maybe something jumps out.” Gina said.

“And they’re on their way. And when do I get to hear all about Mick, Beth and that baby?” Garcia wanted to know with a grin so big they could practically hear it over the phone.

“Sorry, P, but we’re really busy here. Have to talk to you later.” Mick said.

“Oh, I can wait. Don’t think you can escape me, my dear handsome Brit.”

Mick rolled his eyes and Prophet and Gina laughed at him. They knew very well that Garcia wouldn’t give up and besides, Beth had already shown them the picture she had taken of Mick holding Sonja in his arms. They all agreed that it was kind of cute.

Sheriff Lockwood knocked on the front door of Bree Wilson. Sam and Beth stayed back a bit. They would let him talk to her first, she her reaction to the news, if it was news to her at all.

“Sheriff,” Bree greeted Lockwood when she opened the door. She looked surprised and nervous. “What brings you here?”

“It’s Madeline Seaver, Bree.” Lockwood replied. “She’s dead. We found her this morning. It’s possible that you were the last to have seen her alive. You were there yesterday to drop some stuff off, right?” he asked.

“What about Sonja?” Bree asked, ignoring the sheriff’s question. “Is she alright? Tell me she’s oaky.”

Lockwood gave Sam a puzzled look and at Sam’s nod answered her. “She’s fine, Bree, Sonja’s fine. She’s with my wife until her grandmother can come to pick her up.”

“Oh, thank God!” Bree sighed and then started to cry. “I’m so sorry, Sheriff. I never meant to hurt her, I only… You have to understand, Madeline didn’t know the first thing about raising a child. I was only trying to help. I…I never meant to shoot her. I only wanted her to give me Sonja. I’m a much better mother than her, you know I am.” Bree Wilson rambled, grabbing Lockwood’s arm, trying to make him understand.

“Oh, Bree, how could you?” The Sheriff asked incredulously.

“I didn’t mean to. I was just so angry that she refused to give me Sonja. But I couldn’t get in, not with Madeline lying there, so I left. I’m so sorry!” she wailed.

“Yeah, I’m too.” Lockwood replied. “Bree Wilson, you are under arrest for the murder of Madeline Seaver…”

“Looks like Sam and Beth were successful.” Prophet said when he saw them and Sheriff Lockwood come in with a handcuffed woman in tow.

“At least some of us are,” Mick commented. They had been making their way through the files Garcia had sent them. It was slow going, they had to go through them with a fine tooth-comb. Even the smallest detail could be important. Coop and Beth said something to the Sheriff and then came into the conference room.

“That was fast.” Gina said.

“Yeah, we got luck.” Beth replied and sat down in one of the empty chairs. “Ms. Wilson desperately wanted a child but couldn’t have one herself, so she thought she’ll just take the one form her friend. When Madeline didn’t want to part with her daughter, Wilson shot her, she got scared and ran away.” She told the rest of the team.

“Where do we stand with our other case?” Sam wanted to know, indicating the print-outs on the pin-walls.

“Thirteen men fit our profile, we’re trying to narrow it down now.” Mick explained.

“And favorites?” Beth asked and took one of the print-outs.

Prophet shook his head. “Not so far, but we’ll kept looking. Join in anytime you like.”

“Oh, with pleasure,” Beth said sarcastically. “Can’t let you guys have all the fun.”

“Tommy Baton, twenty-three, works as a plumber. He was raised by his grandmother until he was twelve. Then granny dearest kicked his ass out. There are no reason listed for it in the file, but going by what I read her, he had the kinky habit of watching the old lady under the shower and things like that. Yack.!” Mick said.

It was late in the day and it seemed that they had found the best candidate for their killer. “His grandmother died four weeks ago.”

“As a plumber he would have access to the houses and no one would question his presence.” Gina pointed out.

“And he had officially worked in or near the houses of each victim at the time of the murder.” Garcia told them over the phone. She had been digging up everything she could find about Baton. It was not much, he was a loner, didn’t even own a credit card.

“Why the hell wasn’t he checked out before?” Beth wanted to know angry.

“We can figure that out later, right now, we need to find out where he is.” Sam said and went out to find Sheriff Lockwood. The others followed him.

Baton wasn’t at home. At his work, his boss told them that he was fixing the plumbing in a house a few miles out of town. It belonged to an older woman, Celeste Koop, who lived there alone. She fit Baton’s victomology precisely.

They drove there as fast as the weather allowed, but it was already dark and it had snowed the entire afternoon.

“What if he’s not there anymore?” Lockwood asked worried.

“He tasks his time with them, he will still be there. The question is whether Mrs. Koop is still alive.” Sam replied.

Lockwood shook his head. “I just want this to be over.” He said.

The house was dark, except for one window on the first floor. The van Baton used for his work was standing in the driveway.

“Prophet, Beth, head to the back, we go in through the front door.” Sam ordered. They all had their gun out and they wore their vests under their coats. Baton would be armed and by now he would be hard pressed to control himself, if he even bothered to try to. Men like him were overcome by their destructive emotions. And they liked it. It gave them the feeling of absolute power.

Sam waited until Prophet and Beth were out of sight, then he went to the door and turned the knob. The door opened at his tough and with a nod to the others he went in first while Mick covered him. Gina and Sheriff Lockwood followed quickly after them.

They cleared the living room and met with Prophet and Beth at the stair case. They had come in through the back door in the kitchen.

As quietly as possible they went upstairs. The bathroom and the guest room were empty. Only the main bedroom remained. This time the door was locked when Sam tried to open it.

“Mick,” Sam whispered.

The young Brit took hos lock-picks out and had the door unlocked in less than ten seconds.

Sam pushed the door open forcefully and they stormed in. Baton was standing in the room, bowed over the bed. Celeste Loop was lying bound on the bed, bleeding from numerous cuts, her hair choppe doff.

“Tommy, put the knife down.” Sam ordered. He stepped closer while the others covered them, but not getting into Sam’s way. Sheriff Lockwood had entered too, but kept back.

“No! No, she has to pay.” Tommy replied. “She rejected me, when I loved her. She sent me away!” he shouted. Baton raised his knife and brought it down, aiming at Mrs. Koop’s chest. Two shots rang out and Baton was thrown backwards and then dropped dead.

While Sam and Lockwood, who still looked shocked at the fact that he had actually shot someone, made sure that Baton was dead, Gina and Beth hurried forward to help Celeste Koop. They untied the elderly woman’s hands and helped her up. Mick called for an ambulance and the ME.

Lockwood kept staring at Baton’s body. “Twenty years, Agent Cooper, and this is the first time that I had to discharge my gun.” He muttered. He sounded surprised.

“You did the right thing, Sheriff.” Sam assured him.

“Yeah, I still don’t think I’m going to sleep tonight.”

Sam patted him on the shoulder. “That’s a normal reaction, Sheriff. A good one.”

The team was about to leave when an elderly woman came their way, holding Sonja in her arms. “Are you the FBI agents?” She asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” Prophet replied.

“I’m Karen Seaver, I just wanted to thank you for taking care of Sonja and catching Madeline’s killer.” She told them, while the baby smiled at them happily.

“Glad we could help.” Beth assured her.

With a forced smile the woman left before she embarrassed herself by crying.

“That is one cute baby,” Prophet stated. The others nodded in agreement.

End


End file.
